Lost and found
by Arikae
Summary: Aramis and Porthos return to the garrison after a failed mission. They bring back an injured friend and the news they have lost one of their own. Can they get through this loss or will they fall apart. (It's me...I don't do deathfics)
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: A big THANK YOU to Tidia for giving me this idea! I hope everyone likes it. If you don't that's okay. **

**Warnings: All mistakes are mine and has nothing to do with anyone else. I'm really sorry.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters.**

* * *

Epilogue:

Aramis and Porthos rode into the garrison, battered and exhausted. Aramis was leading a third horse with their friend draped over the neck of the horse, feverish and still losing blood. Two of their fellow Musketeers came over and quickly pulled him off the horse with Porthos's help.

"Get him into the infirmary." Aramis ordered and followed them up the steps.

"What happened?"

Aramis stopped and turned to the captain. "We ran into some trouble at the Mesiac. The villagers there didn't take kindly to the King's men." He glared at Treville. "The next time the Cardinal wants taxes collected, tell him to send his Red Guards!" He turned away to take care of his wounded friend.

"Aramis." Treville called. Aramis stopped but didn't turn around. "d'Artagnan?" Treville could see Aramis's shoulders slump. The Musketeer took his hat off and turned slightly, so that Treville could only see his profile. He shook his head slowly, then left. Treville stood there, staring at the man's back as he walked away. They have lost one of their own. It was a black day.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: A big THANK YOU to Tidia for giving me this idea! I hope everyone likes it. If you don't that's okay. **

**Warnings: All mistakes are mine and has nothing to do with anyone else. I'm really sorry.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters.**

One day ago…

D'Artagnan was still grumbling about this mission as they neared their destination. It's got to the point where his three friends were finding his ramblings amusing. D'Artagnan revelled in going on missions. It has been over six months since he's been commissioned as a musketeer and as far as the Musketeer Regiment was concerned, d'Artagnan is one of their best.

Athos grinned at the young man's complaints. He knew d'Artagnan enjoyed the excitement and adrenaline of a real mission that required investigations and action. Collecting taxes were menial jobs and definitely not the job of a Musketeer. It has always been a duty of the Red Guards but apparently, this village has been causing trouble. Two troops of Red Guards had been taken down by these villagers. That fact alone told Athos they weren't dealing with their run of the mill villagers. He also knew d'Artagnan understood this but collecting taxes rubbed d'Artagnan up the wrong way. D'Artgnan grew up on a farm, he knew all too well how hard farmers worked to earn their money, only to have more than half of it go to taxes. It was the reason why he had travelled to Paris in the first place and the reason his father was killed.

"D'Artagnan! Isn't your mouth tired? You haven't stopped complaining since you left the garrison." Porthos laughed.

"Oh I'll stop talking. Don't you worry. As soon as we're over this bridge, I'm shutting up. All of you can take their hard earned money from them. I can't do it!" D'Artagnan was fuming now.

"D'Artagnan, you know these people have killed six Red Guards and injured another six. This is more than just a tax collecting mission." Athos reasoned with the boy.

D'Artagnan sighed. He knew what Athos was saying. Someone had to pay for the death of the Red Guards, but he wished he could help these people, not arrest them. "Yes, I…" D'Artagnan's horse reared at the sudden sound of gun shots. He jumped off his horse, using the rails for cover. D'Artagnan looked around back to his friends, who were behind him. He froze at the sight. Aramis was pulling an unconscious Athos to cover. A shot fired close to him making him fall back to where his friends were. "How is he?" He called as he fired off shots.

"Shot to shoulder. Hit his head on the way down." Aramis grilled out as he made some shots over his shoulder. "These are no villagers! They're too coordinated!"

"We're pinned down and with Athos out, we are outnumbered." Porthos called out at them, from further back, behind a tree.

Aramis rolled his eyes, "Porthos, even with Athos, we're outnumbered. We must retreat."

D'Artagnan looked over at Athos, bleeding and pale. They had to get Athos out of here, but they couldn't, pinned down as they were. He could only think of one way. "Throw me your pistol!"

"What?!" Aramis looked at him as if he was an idiot.

"Give it to me. I'll lay down some cover. Get Athos out of here!" He fired off another shot and felt satisfaction as the bullet hit its target. "Give me your pistol!" He ordered again.

Aramis looked down at Athos, then over at Porthos. Porthos clenched his jaw as he caught two more of their enemy. D'Artagnan looked between his friends as he readied his pistol for more shots. He could see them being torn between getting Athos to safety and not leaving D'Artagnan.

"I can do it! It will give you a chance to get Athos out of here!" D'Artagnan stood and made another shot, hitting his target, as if making his point. He was glad Athos wasn't conscious. If he was he would object adamantly. "Please, Aramis." Aramis saw the desperation in D'Artagnan's eyes, but it was replaced by determination and Aramis knew then, d'Artagnan would do it whether or not they agreed. "Save him."

"D'ARTAGNAN!" But it was too late. D'Artagnan stepped out. Two pistols in hand, firing. Then dropped down low again to reload.

"Get out of here!" He called back to them. He turned in time to see Aramis toss his pistol to him. D'Artagnan caught it and nodded.

"You stay alive and get back to the garrison!" Porthos yelled at him. He had taken the opportunity, when d'Artagnan had stepped out into the firing line, to run over to Aramis. He threw his musket to d'Artagnan.

"Are you ready?" d'Artagnan stood up and fired one weapon, then looked back again. "Now!" With a primal yell, he ran forward, towards the middle of the bridge, firing with the multiple weapons he had. Porthos and Aramis dragged Athos in the other direction.

Aramis, Athos and Porthos reached the horses. Musketeer horse were well trained. Even in fear, they would not move too far from their riders. They got Athos on a horse and Porthos mounted his, leading both horses into a gallop and out of danger. D'Artagnan was doing a good job, holding the villagers at bay as they got away. Porthos rode off, with Athos.

D'Artagnan smiled when he saw Porthos safely riding off with Athos. He was in the middle of the bridge and was about to start retreating when a shot from a musket caught him in the gut.

Aramis turned back to D'Artagnan after seeing Porthos and Athos off. He believed he could still help d'Artagnan and get them all back alive, but he was too late. He watched in horror as D'Artagnan stumbled towards the side of the bridge. "NO!" Another shot caught d'Artagnan in the shoulder, sending him over the railings of the bridge. A shot hit a tree next to him. Now that d'Artagnan was no longer drawing their fire, the villagers aimed at the trees, but he was too far for them. He didn't even hear the bullets hitting trees around him. He only stared at the place on the bridge where he had last seen d'Artagnan. Finally, he mounted his horse and rode away. A tear fell for his fallen friend.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: A big THANK YOU to Tidia for giving me this idea! I hope everyone likes it. If you don't that's okay. **

**Warnings: All mistakes are mine and has nothing to do with anyone else. I'm really sorry.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters.**

Five days later:

Paris, West Gate. Guard's tower.

Aramis and Porthos sat at the foot of the guard's tower. They've spent their nights here since Athos had woken up a day after they arrived back. Their days were spent riding out to the river, d'Artagnan had fallen into, in search of their friend or at least his body. Everyone knew Athos would not give up until they found d'Artagnan. He was a stubborn man that way. He was hysterical when Athos had woken up to the news that d'Artagnan had stayed back to ensure his safety.

On the first day, Athos lead a dozen Musketeers to the village and taken down the men that had ambushed him. This time they were ready and d'Artagnan had taken out more of them than they had thought. It turned out a band of bandits had taken to making a home at the village and decided they would make their own laws. As soon as the outlaws were rounded up, Athos took a dozen of the villagers in search of d'Artagnan. They were grateful and willing to help. Aramis and Porthos were the only ones to remain behind, while the other Musketeers brought the bandits back to Paris for sentencing.

Athos was exhausted but refused to return to Paris or rest. "Athos, you will not find him in your condition."

Athos spun on Aramis. Aramis was shocked at the anger in the man's eyes, directed at him. "Unlike you, I can't leave a friend behind!"

Aramis's own anger started to simmer. "Say that again." He whispered, dangerously.

Porthos watched as his two friends facing each other, their noses only inches from the other. He was about to step n, but Athos spoke first. "I said," He grilled out, "I don't leave friends behind."

Aramis grabbed him by the collar of his jacket, not even caring that he was possibly pulling out his own needle work in Athos's injury. "Don't you dare think I wanted to leave him there! That was his choice. It was his choice to save you!" Athos stumbled as Aramis shoved him back, "You were shot! We," He pointed at Porthos and himself, "had to make a decision between you and d'Artagnan. We couldn't, but d'Artagnan made it for us. We didn't have a choice! He walked out on to that bridge to save your life!" Aramis stepped forward and pointed at himself, "Do you think I didn't want to go back?" Tears came to his eyes as the image of d'Artagnan falling over the rails came to mind again "I watched him get shot. I watched him fall over the bridge and I couldn't do a thing about it!" Aramis shook his head in defeat, "You want to keep looking, go ahead, kill yourself trying to find him. I'm sure d'Artagnan would be happy to know his sacrifice was for nothing!" Aramis turned and headed back to his horse. He let the tears run freely down his face now. Mourning for his friend.

Athos's strength and anger ebbed, but not enough to apologise. The fact that d'Artagnan was lost would not allow him to see the pain his friend was in. Porthos stepped up to Athos, "You're not the only to care for the boy. He was our friend too." With that, Porthos walked away, but stopped to make sure Athos followed. He knew he would. Aramis was right. Athos had no right to throw his life away after d'Artagnan gave his own to save it.

They searched every day for d'Artagnan until Athos was exhausted, and then returned to Paris, only for Athos to climb to the top of the guard's tower at the west gate. Porthos or Aramis would head to the garrison for food and wine and to report to the captain before camping out at the foot of the tower. They never spoke of that day since, and Athos and Aramis barely acknowledged each other, but it was a silent agreement that they will keep looking until they found their friend. This has become their routine.

A small cabin in the woods…

D'Artagnan groaned as he woke up. He felt weak and disoriented. He looked around the room. It wasn't actually a room, but a small home. There was a small dining table in the middle of the house, a small kitchen across from him and that was about it. _Where am I? _He thought back to what happened. He remembered seeing Porthos leaving with Athos before he was shot in the gut and then in the shoulder. He remembered having his breath sucked from his lungs as he hit the freezing waters below. That was it.

D'Artagnan groaned as he tried to rise from the cot but the pain from his stomach prevented him from getting any further. He cried out in pain at the burning there. He didn't even hear the door open or someone putting a hand on his forehead. "I wouldn't move if I were you. I was sure you weren't going to make it. Your shoulder wound was serious but it was the shot to your gut that was the biggest concern." D'Artagnan finally got the pain under control and opened his eyes to find a kind looking old man smiling down at him. He was sitting on a small stool, next to the cot. "I had to tie you down to pull those bullets out."

"You saved me." D'Artagnan throat was dry from not being used for a long time. "How long?"

"I found you five days ago. You were washed up not far from here. You're a lucky boy. The cold weather kept you from bleeding out." The small man smiled at him, "Your friends, Athos, Aramis and Porthos will be glad to know you're alive."

D'Artagnan tried to push himself up again at those names, but the old man put a hand on his shoulder to keep him from moving too much. "You know my friends."

The man just smiled and shook his head. "You were feverish and talking a lot in your sleep. Those names were spoken…as well as a woman's name. Constance, I believe it was."

D'Artagnan smiled at him. "They are all very close to my heart." Then he remembered in panic, "It's been five days. They must think I'm dead!" He tried to get up but the man wouldn't let him go. "I have to go!" He struggled but the pain was too much. His vision darkened and then nothing.

The man, David was his name, shook his head. D'Artagnan may not remember it, but he has done this twice before but this was the only time he was actually lucid. "These people must mean the world to you."


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: A big THANK YOU to Tidia for giving me this idea! I hope everyone likes it. If you don't that's okay. **

**Warnings: All mistakes are mine and has nothing to do with anyone else. I'm really sorry.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters.**

Paris…

Athos watched as the sun set over the horizon. Another day. Another day without d'Artagnan. He was losing hope. There was no sign of d'Artagnan anywhere. No news from anyone. His days have been consumed with finding the young man who has become such a huge part of his life. He hated not knowing. He would rather find a body, than not know what happened to his friend, his brother. If he was dead, then Athos needed to find him and bring him home. He deserved to be buried amongst the other fallen musketeers. It was what he deserved and what he would've wanted. _I will find you, d'Artagnan._

Aramis sat at the foot of the tower, looking out into the distance. D'Artagnan was out there. Dead or alive, he was out there and they needed to find him. He knew if d'Artagnan was dead, their live would never be the same again. He smiled at the memory of d'Artagnan walking through the gates of the garrison, calling out the man he thought murdered his father. Life was always lively with Athos and Porthos but days with d'Artagnan was always filled with the ideals of youth and the reason why they did what they did.

Porthos looked at Aramis, curious. It was the first smile he has seen on his friend since that day. He knew Aramis blamed himself for what happened to d'Artagnan, even though, if there was blame to be laid, it should've fallen squarely on both their shoulders. It was different for Porthos, he didn't see d'Artagnan fall into the freezing river below. They have all lost friends and colleagues, but this was different. This was d'Artagnan. "What are thinking about?" Porthos asked his friend.

Aramis's looked at him, a small smile still graced his face, "I can still remember the first words he spoke when we met him. 'I'm looking for Athos. My name is d'Artagnan, of Lupiac in Gascony. Prepare to fight! One of us dies here!'" Porthos chuckled at Aramis's imitation of d'Artagnan. It really was an impressive entrance. "I would give anything to see that again. To see the fire in his eyes. The determination."

"How long do you think we can keep this up?"

"As long as we need to." Aramis answered simply.

we need to." Aramis answered simply.

Two days later…

David handed D'Artagnan a leather bag. It was filled with salted meat. He also gave him a water skin. "I still don't think you are strong enough."

D'Artagnan smiled at his saviour. "It has been too long. My friends will be driving themselves crazy trying to find me. If I don't go back, they will search until their minds and bodies give up and then do it again the next day. I can't allow that to continue."

David nodded, understanding how much these people meant to him. "Take my mule, but I need him back." David said pointedly. D'Artagnan laughed, then winced at the pain it caused, "You really are in no condition to travel."

D'Artagnan looked at him, "I'll be fine and I can't take the mule. He is your livelihood. I have been told I am a very stubborn and determined man. I will make it home, even if it kills me."

"That's what I'm afraid of." David mumbled under his breath, then said more clearly, "I wish you well."

D'Artagnan shook the man's hand, "I owe you my life. I will return, if only to let you know I am well."

David nodded, "Head east through the forest."

"Thank you." D'Artagnan said his goodbyes and left. It will be a long journey home.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: A big THANK YOU to Tidia for giving me this idea! I hope everyone likes it. If you don't that's okay. **

**Warnings: All mistakes are mine and has nothing to do with anyone else. I'm really sorry.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters.**

Five days later…

The sun was starting to set on the twelfth day since d'Artagnan made the ultimate sacrifice. Aramis looked up at the man sitting in the tower. He didn't know how long this was going to go. He didn't know if Athos…or he or Porthos, for that matter, would ever stop this ritual. The captain had ordered them to stop looking on the tenth day and as much as they wanted to shove that order back where it belonged, they had to admit that the search was fruitless. Athos was close to quitting the regiment but again, the thought of disrespecting d'Artagnan's memory and sacrifice would not allow it.

Aramis stared off into the sunset with Porthos sitting next to him. "I can't get the image from my head." Aramis said, surprising Porthos.

"What image?" He asked.

"The image of d'Artagnan falling off that bridge. I can see his face. I can see the shock on his face, like he knew he was dying." Aramis shut his eyes tight. "I've been trying so hard to believe that he survived, but the more I see it, the less hope I have."

Porthos understood. Athos and himself could still hold on to hope because they never saw what Aramis did. He was glad he didn't see it, but he hated that Aramis was being tortured by the image, continuously. "I don't know what I can say to make this better. I don't think there is anything I can say but I can tell you this. D'Artagnan has luck on his side. He always has. On top of that, he has Athos's stubbornness. If he's out there and he's alive, he will find his way home."

"And if he's not?"

"Then somehow, someway, we will bring him home." Porthos was determined to believe that.

"I hope you are right."

Athos watched as the torches around the gates were lit. The last of the sun was disappearing. He gazed out into it. The day is ending. "Where are you, d'Artagnan?" He asked himself. He was ready to give up for the day, when a movement in the distance caught his eyes, just as the sun disappeared. He frowned, not sure if it was a trick of the light.

D'Artagnan looked up at the west gate of Paris. The torches were lit. He could see it in the distance. He was so close, but he was exhausted. He wanted to give up. He wanted to sleep, but a voice sounded in his mind. _Where are you?_ His friends were waiting for him. He knew it and the thought of his friends gave him the extra energy he needed to plod on.

Aramis and Porthos were surprised at seeing Athos climbing down the tower. He usually stayed up there the entire night. "Athos?"

"I saw something." Athos said, simply and started walking out the where he saw the small movement.

Aramis sighed, but knew there was nothing they could do but follow. Athos had done this before and it never amounted to anything. He was sure this time was no different. They followed their friend.

The torches were lit to a distance for the purpose of ensuring being able to see an attack long before they reach the gates. Athos kept walking out.

Aramis and Porthos followed at a small distance.

D'Artagnan concentrated on his feet. He concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. He didn't see the man walking towards him in the distance. He only had one focus, to keep walking.

Athos's heart was pounding as the silhouette of a man came into view in the flickering of light made by the torches. "D'Artagnan." He whispered to himself as he started running. "D'Artagnan!"

Aramis and Porthos stopped and looked at each other, confused and worried that their friend was losing his mind, when they saw it too. They squinted, making sure their eyes were not playing tricks on them. "Tell me you see what I'm seeing." Aramis pleaded.

"I see it, but I'm not sure I dare to believe it." Porthos started smiling and turned to Aramis. "He's back."

A wash of so many emotion came over Aramis at that point. Relief, worry, elation, shock… and so many more. They broke into a run.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: A big THANK YOU to Tidia for giving me this idea! I hope everyone likes it. If you don't that's okay. **

**Warnings: All mistakes are mine and has nothing to do with anyone else. I'm really sorry.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters.**

Athos stopped about five metres from D'Artagnan and waited. He wanted to pull the man into his arms, he wanted to scream and cry out in relief, but as he neared the boy, he could see he was in an atrocious condition. He hasn't even looked up at him. He was dead on his feet. Athos did not want to startle him or maybe he was scared. That it was a dream and if he touched the boy, he would wake up. He stood there until D'Artagnan walked right into him.

* * *

D'Artagnan frowned when he hit something. He was about to step around it when he realised there were more than one set of boots in front of him. Two were his. He knew that, but where had the other pair come from.

* * *

Aramis and Porthos stopped a couple of metres short of the two men. Aramis's instincts were to get the boy back to the garrison and check him over, but right now, that was not what d'Artagnan needed. He needed to know he was home and his friends were with him.

* * *

It was a painstaking wait for d'Artagnan to lift his head and looked at him. Athos looked into the unfocused eyes. He watched as d'Artagnan looked like he was about to tumble over. Slowly, he lifted his hands and gently placed them on d'Artagnan's shoulders. He sighed in relief when the boy didn't disappear. This was real.

* * *

Someone was in front of him, but there was a fog between them.

* * *

Athos watched as D'Artagnan shook his head to clear is vision.

* * *

D'Artagnan opened his eyes. His vision clear. "Athos?" He whispered, not believing who it was in front of him. "Athos."

Athos smiled at hearing his name. He nodded, tears coming to his eyes. Finally, he pulled the boy into his arms. "You're home. You're home. You're home…" He didn't know how many times he repeated himself and he didn't care. He could sound raving mad for all he cared. His brother was home.

As much as Athos never wanted to let go, he could feel the impatience from the men behind him. He sighed as he pushed d'Artagnan back and stepped aside so that he could see who else were with him. D'Artagnan smiled at the two men. "Aramis. Porthos."

Porthos grinned and stepped up, throwing his arms around the boy. "You have nine lives!" D'Artagnan was buried in the big man. His injuries started to protest but he ignored them.

Aramis winced at the big man's hugs. He stepped up and put a firm hand on the man's arms. "Easy, Porthos." Porthos glared at him, good naturedly, knowing Aramis wanted his own reunion. He let go and stepped back.

Aramis didn't hug the young man like the others. He took him by the shoulders and turned him so they were facing each other. He then took the man's head in his hands and looked into his eyes. "Do that to me again, I will push you off the bridge, myself. Do you understand?" Aramis could feel the heat coming off the boy's skin but he waited for an answer first. D'Artagnan smiled tiredly and nodded. "Good." Finally, he couldn't help it, he pulled d'Artagnan into his arms, closing his eyes and looking up to the heavens "Thank you." He whispered before taking a deep breath and pulling away. "We need to get him back. He's not well." He told the others. "Porthos, you may need to carry him." Porthos nodded, about to pick the young man up, when d'Artagnan stepped back.

"I can walk." He glared at Porthos, daring him to try again. Porthos raised his eyebrows and lifted his hands in the air, in surrender.

"d'Artagnan, you're exhausted." Athos pointed out to him.

Athos wanted to laugh at the look d'Artagnan gave him. He was a boy who has been told by his father that he was too small to ride a horse. "I can!" Then as if to prove it, he took a step, but stumbled. Three pairs of arms shot out to support him. D'Artagnan pushed them away as he got his footing again. He managed another 10 metres before collapsing. Porthos caught him and was about to swing him over his shoulder when Aramis stopped him.

"Not like that. He was shot in the shoulder and the stomach. You'll have to carry him in your arms." Aramis instructed. Porthos shrugged and easily lifted the boy into his arms.

Athos walked next to Porthos, keeping an eye on d'Artagnan. He was pale and drawn. It was obvious the boy had been walking for many days. "He's very warm." Porthos told him.

"And in pain." Athos noticed how d'Artagnan's brow furrowed at each step.

Aramis walked on the other side in silence. D'Artagnan was back but the relief he felt not long ago started fading as he realised d'Artagnan was in a very bad way. The walk back to the garrison was too long. He needed to examine the young man, yesterday!

* * *

They were nearing the gate of the garrison when d'Artagnan stirred. He was confused when he noticed his was staring up at Porthos, then started struggling when he realised he was being carried. "Let me down." He complained. When Porthos ignored he started pushing at the man's chest until Porthos had no choice but to put him on his feet.

The shock of his battered feet on solid ground was a shock and D'Artagnan let himself fall, to take the pressure off. It was a good thing Porthos didn't let him go and was ready to take the weight. "You're really stubborn you know that?" Porthos complained, but d'Artagnan didn't hear him.

D'Artagnan was looking at the gates of the Musketeers' garrison. It seemed like forever since he's seen his home. It finally hit him. "I'm home. I'm really home." He slowly got his feet back under him and started walking forward. The exhaustion and pain forgotten for the moment. Athos looked at Aramis. They smiled, despite their indifferences. This is what they have been waiting for. D'Artagnan walking through that gate. The Three Musketeers stepped up beside him.

It was quite a scene, seeing the Three Musketeers and D'Artagnan walk into the garrison. Everyone paused. They have barely seen these men in the past twelve days, so seeing them at this time was a shock in itself, but seeing d'Artagnan with them was unbelievable.

The moment didn't last though. Everything that has happened over the past twelve days came back at him. The exhaustion, pain, aches and wounds all rolled into one. The courtyard started spinning. There was a commotion. Voices everywhere.

"What happened to him?"

"How?"

"Get him into the infirmary."

"No."

"Get him to his room."

"Where has he been?"

Hands were all over him as he was carried somewhere. He looked up at the sky. The stars were bright, but they disappeared as he found himself looking up at a ceiling. He felt himself being placed on a soft bed and sighed at the comfort of the soft sheets, wondering where they had taken him. People started moving away, allowing him a better view of where he was. He smiled when saw it was his room at the garrison.

Athos smiled at the look on d'Artagnan's expression. They had wanted to take d'Artagnan to the infirmary but Athos objected. D'Artagnan needed to be somewhere that felt like home and as much as the boy tended to find his way to the infirmary, it was not home.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: A big THANK YOU to Tidia for giving me this idea! I hope everyone likes it. If you don't that's okay. **

**Warnings: All mistakes are mine and has nothing to do with anyone else. I'm really sorry.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters.**

D'Artagnan frowned as Porthos sat him up and removed his jacket. He didn't have an undershirt, which wouldn't have helped his condition, so close to winter. Now that d'Artagnan was in a bed, he just wanted to sleep, but his friends wouldn't leave him alone. Athos sat on the bed and placed a comforting hand on d'Artagnan's shoulder as Porthos laid him back against the pile of pillows arranged behind him. "Aramis will take care of you. Just rest and let us do all the work." D'Artagnan nodded at his mentor. That sounded good.

D'Artagnan's chest and ribs were a colour of green and yellow, a clear sign of fading bruises. Aramis felt around to make sure there were no broken ribs. Aramis then cut off the bandages around the wounds. He winced at the inflamed skin around the injuries, but considering d'Artagnan's condition, it could've been much worse. "Someone tended to these and did a very good job."

"His name's David." D'Artagnan mumbled, sleepily. Aramis smiled, the boy was exhausted but wouldn't sleep.

He fingered the shot in the abdomen. It was too warm to the touch. "This one could've killed him." He whispered at how close it was to his stomach. Aramis looked up when a shaky hand covered his. D'Artagnan was looking at him.

"I'm alive." D'Artagnan didn't like the guilt he was seeing on Aramis's face.

Aramis smiled at his tired friend. This young man was exhausted and in pain, but he was concerned for him. "I can see that. Now rest while I check to see where else you're hurt." He moved to the foot of the bed and worked at getting his boots off. He could feel D'Artagnan fighting him. He groaned as the boot came off.

Athos could hear the hiss coming from Aramis, telling him D'Artagnan's feet were not looking good. D'Artagnan opened his eyes. "How's your shoulder?" He asked.

Athos shook his head. "Stop worrying about everyone else and go to sleep." He chuckled.

D'Artagnan frowned. "I can't. Aramis won't stop poking me."

Aramis looked up at him, offended. "I'm not poking. I'm taking care of your wounds." He grimaced at the condition d'Artagnan's feet was in. It was bloody and blistered. "Porthos, can you get some warm water as well as cold water?" Porthos left the room to get the water. He needed to clean d'Artagnan's feet in case infection takes in. "How long were you walking for?"

D'Artagnan thought about that then shrugged, wincing at the pain in his shoulder. "I don't know." He counted his fingers, "David said I was unconscious for five days," He counted out five fingers, "then I left his place two days later," he added another two days, then concentrated at counting his fingers.

"Assuming David found him the day he fell over, he's been walking for five days." Athos watch D'Artagnan, the guilt of not finding the boy sooner was surfacing.

D'Artagnan frowned at him, "Seven days." D'Artagnan showed him his fingers. "Seven not five."

Athos laughed, and pushed down D'Artagnan's hands. The boy was beyond exhausted, he was delirious. "Just go to sleep."

Porthos returned with the water as well as Captain Treville. The captain handed Athos the bowl of cold water and a towel. Athos nodded his thanks and started tending to d'Artagnan's fever. "That feels good." D'Artagnan mumbled.

The captain didn't say anything for a while. He just stood there staring at the young man in the bed. He was so sure d'Artagnan was lost to them. He had doubted what the musketeers were saying, that d'Artagnan was back. They had surrounded him when he returned to the garrison, telling him that the boy had returned from the dead. He had to see for himself. "How is he?"

Aramis was about to answer when D'Artagnan spoke, "Captain?"

The captain smiled and nodded, "It's good to have you back, d'Artagnan."

"What are you doing in my room?" Everyone, but the Captain and d'Artagnan burst out laughing.

"Forgive him, Captain. He's been walking for five days. He's feverish and not very coherent right now. He's been babbling like this for a while." Aramis put the tub of water, Porthos had brought back, on the floor near the bed.

"I don't babble. Babies babble. I talk." D'Artagnan complained as Aramis and Athos sat him up on the bed and swung his leg over the side. "What are you doing?" He felt his feet emerge in the warm water and hissed, trying to pull it back but Aramis and Porthos held it there. "That hurts!"

"Just a little longer." Aramis assured him.

The captain wasn't sure if D'Artagnan really was back. This man was more like a ten year old boy, not the independent young man he came to know. "I'll leave you to it. I just needed to see for myself." The captain turned to leave, amused at what he saw.

Porthos laughed, "He is going to be so embarrassed when he's back to his normal self." He smiled at the boy who was nodding off. "About time he fell asleep."

"He should be asleep for a while." Aramis said. He worked quickly and wrapped d'Artagnan's feet. Finally, they could get d'Artagnan under the covers and resting.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: A big THANK YOU to Tidia for giving me this idea! I hope everyone likes it. If you don't that's okay. **

**Warnings: All mistakes are mine and has nothing to do with anyone else. I'm really sorry.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters.**

They sat around the bed, not ready to leave him yet. They've been hoping this day would come and now that it finally has, it feels surreal. They were afraid to leave, worried that if they did, d'Artagnan would disappear. It was a good thing they didn't leave because d'Artagnan started getting restless. All three men sat up when D'Artagnan started tossing.

"Have to get home…" He mumbled, "They're waiting…Athos…Porthos…Aramis." His head tossed from side to side. "No!" Athos frowned when the tossing got more violent. "NO!"

"D'Artagnan," Athos sat on the bed and put a firm hand on d'Artagnan's shoulder, "d'Artagnan, it's okay. You're home." He smiled when d'Artagnan seemed to calm, but then he started waking up. Aramis sighed when he saw the boy wake up.

"A herd of buffalos riding through this room, shouldn't wake you up. What's going on, d'Artagnan?" Aramis asked him.

D'Artagnan looked at each of them, then took in his surroundings. He sighed in relief. It was Porthos that figured it out. "You're worried this isn't real." Porthos said. Athos and Aramis turned to him, confused. "What?" Porthos shrugged, "That's what it is. He's been walking for days, probably didn't actually believe that he would get here. It's understandable." Then admitted, "I don't want to leave here in case he disappears." Aramis smiled, impressed that the big man would admit to that and he was right. He felt the same way so it was only normal for d'Artagnan to as well.

Athos turned back to d'Artagnan. "You're home and we're here. This isn't a dream." Athos assured the boy. "Go to sleep and when you wake up, we'll all be here." D'Artagnan still hesitated. "I give you my word." That was all d'Artagnan needed. He closed his eyes and fell into a more restful sleep. The three men sat back, relieved that d'Artagnan was finally resting.

"How is he doing, Aramis?" Porthos asked him.

Athos turned to him, also wanting to know the answer. "He doesn't have any injuries that are life threatening. The skin around the stitches are inflamed. All the movement has irritated it, but it's not infected. His fever had me worried but I can't find anything that seems to be causing it, so I think it's just his body reacting to the exhaustion. D'Artagnan pushed himself beyond his limits to get back to us. He just needs a good week's rest and he should be back to his old self."

"How about the bullet wounds?" Porthos asked.

"Healing. If it wasn't tended to so well, he would not have made it. Whoever found him must be or have been a physician. He'll be in pain for another couple of weeks but other than that, I don't see any complications."

Porthos and Athos sighed in relief, "Good."

The middle of the night saw d'Artagnan tossing and turning again. Aramis reached over and felt d'Artagnan's forehead. "This fever could become a problem if we don't keep it down. It won't allow him the sufficient rest his body needs to recover."

Porthos stood, "What can we do?"

"Keep him cool for now."

"I'll go get more water then." Athos said as he stood and left.

Aramis didn't say a word. "You know you two are going to have to speak to each other at some point."

Aramis shrugged, "I think we're doing fine."

"D'Artagnan will notice eventually. He won't be happy." Porthos pointed out.

"We'll cross that bridge when it comes. For now, we take care of him." Aramis looked at the wound in the abdomen, "That wound is going to cause him pain for a while. He'll be unbearable."

Porthos caught the guilty look, "You know it's that look that drives his anger."

"What are you talking about?" Aramis sighed.

"You keep looking guilty about what's happened. You blame yourself for leaving d'Artagnan and Athos knows it. He's angry and you make it worse because you look guilty." Porthos shook his head, "None of this is your fault and the sooner you and Athos see that, the better."

"You had Athos. I should've gone back for d'Artagnan."

"There was nothing you could've done and Athos needed you too!" D'Artagnan groaned at the volume. Aramis glared at Porthos as he placed his hand on d'Artagnan's forehead to calm him. It was wet and clammy. The sheen of the sweat made his skin glisten in the light. The fever was climbing by the minute. "Athos would never have survived the ride home if you weren't there." Porthos continued at a quieter tone. He hated being in the middle of his friends. D'Artagnan was back but the tear in Aramis and Athos's friendship was still there. "You…"

Athos returned then with the water, stopping anymore talk for the moment. Aramis knew Porthos would not let up. "How is he?"

"Worse."

He took the water from Athos and grabbed the towel. Gently, he wiped the towel around d'Artagnan's neck and brow, then sighed when D'Artagnan started tossing again and threw the towel aside. "This isn't going to be enough." He stood and rubbed his eyes, "I'll be back," was all he said before walking out the door. Porthos took Aramis's place and picked up the towel. It may not do much but it was better than doing nothing.

"You know he had no choice." Porthos spoke, hoping to talk some sense into Athos, seeing as he had no luck with Aramis. "You can't keep blaming him for this and d'Artagnan would tell you same thing."

"d'Artagnan doesn't need to know. He just needs to rest. Aramis's and my own problems are ours. We'll deal with it in due course."

Porthos rolled his eyes as he continued his ministrations. "You're both idiots." D'Artagnan groaned, swallowing at the discomfort of the heat raging through his body. "See, even unconscious, d'Artagnan agrees. I can't wait until he's well enough to tell you both what idiots you've been."

Aramis barged back in, "I'll be happy when that time comes as well. If he can yell at me he must be feeling better." He put down a cup on the table and poured in something from a small bottle. "This will help regulate his temperature."

"Is his fever that bad?" Porthos asked, knowing Aramis rarely liked to use any remedies for fevers.

"It's rising too fast. He's likely to have a seizure if I can't bring it down now." He stirred the concoction and brought it over. Porthos got up from his spot. Aramis sat on the bed and gently lifted d'Artagnan's head, supporting it with a hand at the back. He pressed the cup against his lip. D'Artagnan frowned as the foul tasting liquid touched his lips. He turned his head to avoid it. Aramis pulled the cup away a little, "You need to drink this, d'Artagnan." He pressed it to his lips again and this time d'Artagnan opened his mouth obediently. He took in a mouthful before trying to pull away again. Aramis stopped him, "Just a little more." More spilled down d'Artagnan's chin than into his mouth, but Aramis had predicted this and made more than was needed. D'Artagnan swallowed the amounts that went into his mouth. "That's good." D'Artagnan frowned when the cup still wasn't taken away. He swallowed a little more and finally the cup was taken away. Aramis lowered d'Artagnan's head back onto the pillow as he handed the cup to Porthos. He wiped away the residual that had spilled down his chin and neck. "Give it half an hour."

It was a long half an hour, as d'Artagnan's fever continued to climb. He tossed and turned in his bed, the fever not letting up. "Save…him…"

Athos frowned at that. He leaned forward, "D'Artagnan?"

"…get him…out..." d'Artagnan was breathing heavily as the dream took hold of him, "Please…Aramis..save him." Athos looked at Aramis, but Aramis avoided his gaze, keeping his eyes on the boy in the bed. "Go!"

Aramis clenched his fist, frustrated at how slowly the concoction was working. He wet the towel and folded it, placing it over d'Artagnan's brow and holding it there. "Come on, d'Artagnan. You need to beat this fever. Athos is fine."

D'Artagnan opened his eyes, and looked straight at Aramis, surprising him. It didn't take long to see that d'Artagnan wasn't awake, his eyes were glazed over. "I'm…s…orry…"

Aramis didn't know why d'Artagnan was apologising or even if he was apologising to him, but he accepted it anyway, hoping it'll removed any unnecessary stress, "It's fine. Everything is fine. Just rest and recover. We can talk once you are feeling well." D'Artagnan calmed at those words. His eyes closed and seemed to fall into a more restful slumber. "Let's hope this is the end of this nightmare." Aramis leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He was tired. Tired of the angry looks he gets from Athos. Tired of seeing d'Artagnan fall. Tired of seeing d'Artagnan suffer.

Athos sat there in silence and watched over his charge. He never believed he would worry about this boy as much as he did. He didn't like this feeling, he didn't like losing control of his emotions. Every time he lose control of his emotions he would lose control of his temper and that tended to happen when D'Artagnan gets himself into trouble. _Is it even possible to keep you out of trouble?_

Porthos sat there and looked from one friend to another and finally his gaze fell on D'Artagnan. _You need to wake up and fix this, D'Artagnan. They'll tear themselves apart if you don't._


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: A big THANK YOU to Tidia for giving me this idea! I hope everyone likes it. If you don't that's okay. **

**Warnings: All mistakes are mine and has nothing to do with anyone else. I'm really sorry.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters.**

It was late afternoon the next day when d'Artagnan woke up. Aramis's remedy allowed d'Artagnan's body to get the rest he need and true to Athos's word, none of them had left d'Artagnan's side unless they had to. The Captain had ordered food to be taken to them. D'Artagnan looked around the room. "It's not a dream," were the first words that came out of his dry throat. Aramis handed him a cup of water, which he took gratefully in his shaky hands. He frowned at how weak he felt.

"Your body is still recovering." Aramis told him as he steadied the cup so that d'Artagnan could take a couple of good mouthfuls before taking it away. "Give yourself time. Your fever rose dangerously high last night. We're lucky it didn't do any damage."

"Yeah, Aramis gave you something for it." Porthos revealed to his young friend, though he was also telling everyone else, including Aramis himself.

D'Artagnan gave Aramis a tired smile, "Thank you."

"You want to thank me? Rest and don't complain about being in a bed all week." Aramis grinned at him.

"A week!" The three of them just laughed at d'Artagnan's expression. The boy could never keep still. "Might as well kill me!"

"After trying so hard to stay alive. That'll be a bit of a waste, don't you think?" Porthos laughed.

"Can you tell us what happened?" Athos asked him, seriously.

D'Artagnan shook his head, "I don't really remember. I remember getting shot in the stomach after Porthos rode back with you, then shot in the shoulder and I was falling. The water was freezing. When I woke up, I was in a cabin in the woods. That was five days later. David said he found me washed up on shore. I left there two days later and started walking east." He frowned as his memory started to get muddy, "And I kept walking. I must have passed out at one point because I remembered waking up on the ground in the woods. I don't even know how I made it back here. The next thing I remember is bumping into you three." He looked at each of them, "And walking through the gate. That's it."

Porthos laughed, "So you don't remember anything you said after arriving here."

D'Artagnan looked at him, suspiciously, "Nooo…why?"

Porthos grinned, "You're very cute when you're delirious."

D'Artagnan groaned, "What did I say?"

Aramis winced, "It's more how you acted."

D'Artagnan closed his eyes, "What did I…forget it. I don't want to know."

Athos stood and sat on the bed. The jokes were over and d'Artagnan could clearly see he was about to get reprimanded. "Don't you dare risk your life to save mine again." Porthos and Aramis looked at each other and sighed. They knew this talk was coming. Athos never really spoke about that day since the argument at the side of the river. They waited for d'Artagnan to reassure Athos, but that's not what happened.

"I can't promise that." D'Artagnan told him, then looked at the others, "I can't make that promise to any of you."

Athos's anger started rising. "You can't make a sacrifice like that again. How are we supposed to live, knowing you gave your life for us?"

D'Artagnan wasn't giving in, "Shouldn't that be the reason why you should keep living?"

"I can't live with that guilt." Athos hissed.

D'Artagnan shook his head, "Then don't!" That confused them. "Don't live _with_ the guilt. Live _without_ it." That made more sense. "It's my choice. It's always my choice! I will always choose to save your lives over anything else. Get used to it."

"You can't be so selfish!" Athos stood and turned his back on him.

Finally, Aramis got fed up, "Get over it, Athos! It was his choice!" D'Artagnan frowned. He has never heard Aramis speak to Athos like that.

"So you keep saying!" Athos growled at him, "Of course, I guess believing that would make you feel better."

D'Artagnan frowned. He had obviously missed something. Aramis stepped around the bed, ready punch out his long-time friend when Porthos stepped in front of him. "Step back and take a breather." He turned to Athos, "Both of you."

"You want to keep blaming me! Go ahead, but don't forget, you're the one he chose to save!" Aramis hissed at Athos. Porthos had to turn around and stop Athos from launching at Aramis this time. He had thought they had gotten past this when Aramis decided to camp out at the west gate to watch over Athos. Seems like they may have just pushed it aside.

D'Artagnan pushed himself up, grunting as the gunshot wounds flared up. "Stop it." He said, breathlessly, but they didn't.

"You were supposed to be watching his back!"

"I was too busy trying to watch yours." Aramis growled at him, then shook his head. He was sick of this. Sick of Athos's temper, "But you know what?" He put up his hands in surrender, "I'm done watching your back. You want to be the one who dies. I won't stop you." He was about to walk out of the room, when d'Artagnan called out.

"ARAMIS!" But that was all he could get out. The pain in the abdomen rose to an almost unbearable level. D'Artgnan curled up into a ball, trying to protect himself from the pain.

"D'Artagnan!" Athos knelt down and pushed back the hair that was covering d'Artagnan's face. The boy's eyes were shut tight, trying to block out the pain. "D'Artagnan, talk to me."

Aramis could see the amount of pain he was in and ran outside. He looked around on the ground. It was getting to winter. Signs of snow have already shown. He knelt down on the ground and scooped the snow near the sides of the building and ran back in. "Get him on back!" He yelled, "Hurry!" He could feel the ice melting in the warm room. D'Artagnan was breathing heavily. Athos and Porthos rolled him over as quickly and gently as they could. As soon as they did, Aramis placed the snow on the abdominal wound "Hold him still." He had to push down on d'Artagnan's chest as soon as the ice touched his skin. Porthos held his legs, while Athos held him by the wrist and shoulder. "It won't be long."

D'Artagnan didn't know what was happening to him. At first his abdomen was burning with pain, then it was burning in a different way. Something icy was there and it felt like it was burning the skin. Hands were restraining him and his instincts were to fight them but then the pain in the stomach region started going numb and he could barely feel a thing. He felt the hands release him and opened his eyes. Someone was wiping at his stomach. It was Aramis. "Why am I wet?" He asked the man.

Aramis smiled at the boy, who was still sweating from the pain he was in. "You need to be more careful. This wound was very close to your stomach and this, David, had to dig out the musket ball. It is still very raw. I can't even fathom how you walked for five days with it like this."

D'Artagnan shrugged, "Walking wasn't bad. It's getting up and down that's painful…" Then looked at Aramis and Athos, pointedly, "and yelling."

Aramis and Athos looked at each other. They were still angry with one another but was not going to risk getting d'Artagnan worked up again. Aramis turned to d'Artagnan, "Rest. I'm going to…"

"NO!" d'Artagnan winced at the pain, again. A hand was immediately on his shoulder, but d'Artagnan shoved it off, frustrated. It was Athos's. "What's going on between you two? You're best friends. Old friends." Nobody spoke. D'Artagnan sighed, "If you want to be angry at someone, then be angry at me. I made the decision." He looked at Athos, "I didn't give them a choice." Tears came to his eyes when he remembered the fear he felt at seeing Athos lying their unconscious, possibly dead, "I did what I had to do and so did Aramis and Porthos. They did what they could. They left me their guns." He turned to Aramis, "I saw you, Aramis. I know you would've come back for me but there was nothing you could've done." Then he looked back at Athos again, "There was NOTHING he could've done." He needed to drill that home. There was only silence after that. Nobody seemed to want to give and he was getting frustrated. "Porthos, punch them both out and put them out of my misery."

"I've been wanting to do that for a while." Porthos growled. "These two idiots have been driving me crazy!"

"What?" The two exclaimed.

"We've barely spoken to each other for twelve days! You!" Porthos pointed to Athos, "haven't spoken to me until yesterday!"

"I wasn't in the most talkative mood." Athos explained, condescendingly.

"Yeah, well, neither were we, but we're a team, you son of a bitch and we stick together no matter what!" Then looked at d'Artagnan and spoke softly, "Even when we lose one of our own. _Especially_, when we lose one of our own."

D'Artagnan hated that he was the reason behind their pain. He hated that the team was falling apart at the seams because of him. "Athos," d'Artagnan pleaded with his mentor, "Are you trying tell me if the roles were reverse you wouldn't do the same?"

Athos knew he was defeated then. He couldn't lie and if he did, his friends would know. "Of course not." He looked at Aramis, "I would give my life for any of you, ten times over."

Aramis smirked, he knew that was Athos's way of apologising, "And I will always be there with my needle and thread." They all laughed at that.

D'Artagnan breathed out a sigh of relief, but it was short lived because the numbing caused by the cold started to fade and the pain was returning. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back further into the pillow, trying to take deep breaths to control the growing pain. "D'Artagnan, what's wrong?" D'Artagnan felt Aramis's hand on head, turning it slight to face him. "D'Artagnan, is the pain coming back?" Athos leaned forward, noticing the sweat covering d'Artagnan brow and chest. D'Artagnan finally opened his tired eyes and nodded at Aramis. "Okay, I'm going to get more ice." Aramis stood and left the room.

Porthos and Athos watched their young friend as he tried unsuccessfully to control the pain. He adjusted himself on the bed, but that only served to cause more pain. They felt useless as d'Artagnan laid there in pain. Aramis finally returned with a wooden basin full of snow. "Get a pillow case from his cupboard." Aramis ordered as he took in the Gascon writhing in pain on the bed. Porthos got up to get it, glad he could do something. He handed the case to Aramis who scooped in three handfuls of snow into it. He compacted the ice until it was a slab and placed it across d'Artagnan's abdomen. It was a minute or two before a groan of relief came from d'Artagnan.

D'Artagnan opened his eyes as the pain faded. "That feels good."

Aramis smiled, "I'm sure it does. Your fever is still high. I'm sure this is a relief."

D'Artagnan smiled tiredly, "What would we do without you?"

Athos and Porthos laughed at that, "Probably be dead." Porthos answered him.

"Yeah…" d'Artagnan frowned as his eyes started closing on their own. Now that the pain has eased, d'Artagnan's body has been given the chance to relax and all the energy used to keep the pain at bay was gone.

Aramis, Athos and Porthos kept up with the ice packs, knowing it was relieving his pain as well as his fever. They stopped when Aramis was satisfied that d'Artagnan was finally resting with little pain.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: A big THANK YOU to Tidia for giving me this idea! I hope everyone likes it. If you don't that's okay. **

**Warnings: All mistakes are mine and has nothing to do with anyone else. I'm really sorry.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters.**

One week later…

D'Artagnan walked around the garrison. Anyone could tell from his gait, he was still hurting, but it was time for him to start using his muscles again. Aramis would've started him earlier, except the fever wouldn't let up, rising and falling, unpredictably. It was like a blast of fresh air when the fever finally broke last night.

Aramis kept a close eye on d'Artagnan as he made his 10th round of the garrison courtyard. He was doing well, considering everything he's been through but Aramis could see that he was tiring. Knowing d'Artagnan, he would continue until he had no strength left. He wished the boy didn't always feel the need to prove himself. He didn't have to.

"D'Artagnan!" Aramis called as d'Artagnan was about to pass him for another round, "Sit down and eat something."

"One more…"

"That was not a suggestion." Aramis glared at him.

D'Artagnan rolled his eyes at him and sat down. The truth was he was getting tired anyway. Aramis placed a cup of water and bread in front of him. "Eat and drink up. That's enough for today."

"Where are Athos and Porthos?"

"Captain needed them for a job."

"Hmm…lucky them. Don't suppose you can tell the captain I'm fit for a job."

Aramis laughed, "Not a chance, my friend."

"Figured." D'Artagnan was bored. "How long are you going to keep me here for?"

Aramis narrowed his eyes at him and smiled, "You make me sound like a jailor."

"May as well be." D'Artagnan mumbled.

"You know you act like a child when you're sick." Aramis laughed.

"I do not!"

"And I rest my case!" Aramis turned to the gates when his friends returned from their 'job'. He smiled. "I think you have a visitor."

D'Artagnan looked up at him, "I do?" He looked in the direction Aramis was looking. At first, all he saw was Athos and Porthos, but they smiled and stepped aside. "Constance?" She's never set foot in the garrison since the day they drove Milady from Paris. He winced as he stood too fast and slowly walked over to her. Too slowly, it seemed for Constance. He was shocked when she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him passionately. His reaction was slow but he finally melted into the kiss and kissed back.

Constance pulled back but only a centimetre. She kept her hands on the side of his face, "They told me you were back but I didn't believe them. I couldn't." She spoke, breathlessly. D'Artagnan wiped away the tears running down her face. "I couldn't go through that again. I almost died when they told me you were lost. I didn't want to live but there was still hope and if there was a chance that you were still alive, I had to live. I had too. Are you really back? Is this a dream?"

D'Artagnan smiled lovingly at her, caressing her check with the back of his fingers, "If it is, it's a good dream." She kissed him again. "People are looking."

"Who cares?" Constance kissed him and this time, she didn't pull back. She knew she would have to answer to her husband, but for now, this moment was all that mattered.

Aramis just grinned. He enjoyed seeing people declare their love. Athos and Porthos walked around them and took a seat opposite Aramis. "How long do you think they can keep that up for?"

"They're young and in love. I wouldn't hold your breath."

The garrison was quiet. The men trying to go about their work but not disturb the couple in the middle of the courtyard. Some Musketeers would walk past, pretending they weren't there, others would glance at them.

Finally, Constance pulled back. "I have to go." She fingered his lips, not wanting to leave the man she loved again, "My husband will be home soon."

"I love you." D'Artagnan kissed her hand.

"And I love you." Constance stepped back, wiping away her tears.

"We will be together. I will find a way." D'Artagnan promised her.

"I will be waiting." She turned and walked out of the garrison.

D'Artagnan waited until she was out of sight before returning to his friends at the table, who were grinning at him. He rolled his eyes at them, then more seriously, "Thank you."

"We wish we could do more."

"She loves me. That's more than enough." D'Artagnan's hand went to his abdomen, unconsciously.

"Is your injury bothering you?" Athos, who was sitting next to him, asked, worried.

D'Artagnan shook his head, "Just a little sore. I'm fine."

"After your lunch, go back to your room and rest. You can do some more exercises later." D'Artagnan was about to protest but Aramis stopped him, "You push yourself too hard and you could end up worse off. Trust me."

D'Artagnan smiled at him, "I do trust you." Then asked, "What happened to those villagers anyway?"

"Turns out they weren't villagers that attacked us, they were bandits." Athos answered.

D'Artagnan frowned, "So it had nothing to do with high taxes?"

Athos shrugged, "No, it was the bandits' way of keeping soldiers from finding them."

"Pretty stupid. They should've known the King would not allow them to continue without paying taxes. How long could they keep it up?" D'Artagnan rested his head against his fist, "Were any of the villagers hurt?"

Aramis smiled, knowing what d'Artagnan was trying to do, "No. They held the women and children hostage. The men didn't dare to do anything."

"Scums!" d'Artagnan didn't even realise he was falling asleep. "Should've left one for me to…" He drifted off.

Aramis chuckled and looked at Athos, nudging his head to tell him to catch d'Artagnan, who was sliding sideways off his seat. "Woah!" Athos caught him and gently leaned him forward onto the table. D'Artagnan, unconsciously, folded his arm under his head, making himself comfortable as he slept on. "Should we get him inside?"

"Nah, he'll be fine out here as long as he's warm." Aramis answered. Porthos took off his cloak and handed it over to Athos, who draped it over the boy's shoulders. Athos did the same with his. "That should be warm enough."

"I swear he's the most stubborn man I know." Porthos shook his head.

"Yes, he is and I, for one, am thankful for it." Aramis smiled affectionately at the sleeping young man, "It's that stubbornness that got him home to us."

Athos smiled at that. It was true. He's determined and strong-willed. He lifted his bottle of wine, "Here's to the stubborn boy." The clink of the bottles above his head caused d'Artagnan to stir a little but he didn't wake. It was the most peaceful sleep he's had in weeks.

The End!


End file.
